


Rose Riding Hood

by Geist



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Bestiality, Chases, Cold Weather, Cunnilingus, F/M, Knotting, Loud Sex, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Running, Sex, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geist/pseuds/Geist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose gets lost in the woods. Unsubtle allusions to classic folk tales ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose Riding Hood

The fire crackled in the grate, casting a merry orange glow that vied for dominance with the cold bluish light filtering in through the windows of the living room. Winter had settled upon stately Lalonde manor like a particularly chilly bird atop a Modernist style house-shaped egg. The stream that ran beneath the house had frozen solid, no doubt causing all sorts of structural problems in service to the architect's vision, while every day soft sheets of snow had to be diligently brushed off the balconies lest the added weight of it caused them to collapse.

It was her mother's turn today, Rose decided, and clad in slippers and a particularly thick woolly sweater she threw herself onto the sofa with every intention of not moving until the green buds of spring were poking out of the ground. Today was the perfect day to lose herself in a good book, and with that in mind she stretched out full length across the couch, grabbed a novel (The Mage Confederacy Cycle: Book 4: The Conclave of the Wizardocracy, as it turned out) from a pile of them on the coffee table, flipped it open and began to read.

She was just in the middle of a particularly gripping chapter (Nimblebeard had been found dead in his chambers, with all the evidence pointing to Erwin the Snakestaff!) when Mrs. Lalonde came in, puffing and panting, stamping snow off her boots and brandishing a broom that was similarly frosty. Rose studiously ignored her as she stood it in a corner, took off her gloves and coat and came over to warm her hands.

“Oh, a fire!” she said. “How lovely. What a good idea, Rosie.”

She came over to the sofa and patted Rose's knee. Rose reluctantly drew up her legs, and her mother sat down in the vacated space.

“Good book, darling?”

Rose licked her thumb and turned a page. “Not too awful.”

“That's nice.” Mrs. Lalonde sighed, leaned back and rested her head. They sat peacefully for a few minutes, then she started to hum an incredibly distracting, repetitive tune. Rose grimaced and tried to focus on her book. The humming continued. Presently, Mrs. Lalonde stopped and, as though just remembering said

“Rosie, you do know you're the sweetest, prettiest, most wonderful daughter a mother could ever wish for?”

“So you say,” Rose grunted, turning another page even though she hadn't been able to properly read the previous one.

“And you know I'd do absolutely anything for you, right?”

“Umm, yeeees?” Rose said slowly, dreading the next sentence.

“So could you do mommy a tiny little favour and go get me some booze? What with the snow and not being able to get to the store I've almost completely run out.”

Rose shut her book with a clap and stared levelly at her mom. “You want me to go and get you alcohol?”

“That's right.”

“In this weather?”

“Mmhmm.”

“For which I will need to go through the woods?”

“Yes!”

“No.”

Mrs. Lalonde deployed a pleading expression. “Please, dearest.”

“Still no.”

“I'll buy you that grimoire you were ogling in the antiques store last month.”

Well now. That was different. Rose knew she wouldn't have any peace until her mother had a couple of fingers of vodka inside her, and the offer of a rather valuable grimoire certainly sweetened the deal. She sighed. “Very well. How hard can it be to walk a mile there and back in foot thick snow?”

“Best. Daughter. Ever! And don't worry, you'll be fine. Wrap up warm, now.”

Rose headed up to her room to fetch her her hoodie, boots, gloves and her longest, thickest scarf. She slung a bag over her shoulder and went back downstairs to the living room. She opened the front door, shivering at the wintry blast that whistled through. “I'm going out now,” she said to her mom, who'd put her feet up on the sofa and was riffling through her book, sniggering occasionally. “I may be some time.”

“Shut the door behind you, dear, you're letting in the draught,” Mrs. Lalonde replied.

Grumbling, Rose stepped out onto the porch and shoved the door shut. She looked down over the ledge, where the house's waterfall hung immobile, a solid sheet of ice, cascading streams twisted and merged with one another. The wind howled, and she shivered and put up her hood and cinched it up as tightly as she could. She went round the back of the house and took the steps down to the garden.

She sunk ankle deep into the snow and kicked her way through it, cursing her mother, but as she forged her way towards the woods Rose's mood lifted. The watery sun glinted off the white expanse before her, and the sound of the flakes crunching beneath her feet became an inspiring rhythm. She felt some trepidation approaching the clustered trees, knowing them to be dark and easy to get lost in. Today though the reflected sunlight turned them into a cathedral of glistening icicles and gentle blue shadows: beautiful instead of threatening.

The snow-laden boughs and icy trunks formed a tunnel around Rose as she strolled beneath the trees. The snow was less thick underfoot thanks to the cover above, and her pace picked up until she entered and area of the woods where the trees were less thick. Blinking in the sudden brightness, she almost missed him.

“Becquerel?” To be fair, a white dog against a white background was a tricky thing to spot, even if he was crackling with eldritch green power. “What are you doing out here? Does Jade know you're gone?”

Becquerel trotted over to Rose. She crouched down and scratched him behind the ears, prompting a satisfied doggy groan.

“I'm taking this bag of goodies to my grandmother,” she said, sing-song and full of sarcasm. Bec tilted his head to one side, encouraging her to scratch him harder. “Actually, complete lie, I'm off to buy booze for my not-so-grand mother.”

Bec rumbled in puzzled agreement. “What a good do – hey, where are you going?” Bec made a full circle around her, sniffing away, then went behind her again. A moment later Rose yelped. Bec had nipped her thigh through her jeans.

“Ow! You little-!” He cut her off by shoving his snout between her legs and taking a big snort. “Hey!” Rose wheeled away from him and stumbled backwards, landing in the snow with a soft flump. Bec prowled towards her with a look in his eyes that on a human she'd have called lustful. Her mind raced and she recalled an instance where Jade, in an unguarded moment, had told her about Becquerel's proclivities towards human women. Her licked her face, then nuzzled her breasts.

“I can't say I'm not curious,” she told him. For a lady whose favourite fantasy was herself writhing in the grip of a tentacled horror from beyond the realms humankind knew, a mere omnipotent dog was pretty tame. “But first,” she continued, getting to her feet, “I think you should work for it!” Her voice trailed away as she dashed into the undergrowth. Bec gave a happy bark and bounded after her.

Rose's breath puffed out in front of her in misty clouds. Twigs crackled underneath her feet and the toes of her boots kicked up sprays of snow. She could hear Bec baying behind her. She ran until the breath burned in her lungs and her legs felt like they were about to fall off. She skidded to a stop and rested against a tree, gasping. Her pursuer seemed to have fallen behind, but she was certain he was just toying with her. She was just about to start running again when she spotted a bare branched tree covered in easily climbable handholds. She grinned.

Grunting, Rose hauled herself into the fork of two branches and sat there with her legs dangling down. When Bec came prancing up to the base of the tree, Rose stuck out her tongue, wiggled her gloved fingers at him and said “Hands beat paws, my infatuated canine friend.”

The world flickered. Rose found herself back on the ground, and when she looked up she saw Bec sitting where she'd been as though dogs were naturally at home in trees. “Using incredible cosmic powers is cheating, mutt.”

Bec leaped down and landed like a cat. Rose grabbed a stick and threw it over him. He whipped his head round, caught it and bit it in two with one crunch of his mighty jaws. In the split second it had taken him to do that, Rose had taken to her heels. Bec caught her scent and set out on the hunt again.

Rose ran deeper into the forest, further and faster until she almost collided with a huge fallen tree. She looked over it and into a steep gully: climbable, if she had time, but she didn't. Something cold landed on her brow. It was snowing again. Peering through the swirling flakes she saw Bec stalking down the path she'd just taken. His gait was slow and leisurely, as though he knew she couldn't go anywhere.

"Alright, you win," Rose gasped, leaning heavily on the broken tree's trunk. Becquerel advanced, his tongue hanging from his mouth, snowflakes sizzling off him when they came into contact with his energy field. He'd grown during the course of the chase and now looked more like a wolf, one of the big old prehistoric ones before they'd started eating human scraps and set their descendants on the disastrous path that ended in pugs and chihuahuas.

"I suppose you'll tear off my clothes and claim your prize now, won't you? Just please be careful with my top. It has a lot of sentimental value as..."

There was a flash of green light and Rose was naked.

"... you well know. Oh!" She looked around and saw her clothes laying on the ground. A perfect square of snow had been cleared away, and they sat in the centre, neatly folded with her hoodie a splash of orange on top.

"Well, that's more gentlemanly than some humans I could name. She shivered, and folded her arms across her breasts. Her nipples were already stiff from the cold. She shuffled her feet in a vain attempt to keep her toes from going numb, then looked sharply at Bec. "I assume you don't want to fuck a frozen corpse. Do something about the temperature, please."

Another flash, and instantly Rose felt perfectly comfortable. She felt water on her feet, and looked down. The snow was melting around them. "Much better." She turned around, planted her palms on the fallen tree, bent over and spread her legs wide open. Her labia were already slightly parted, and moisture glistened within. The sheer deviance of the situation had her all ready to go. She licked her lips and said

"Come on then, big bad wolf. Come and gobble me up. "

Rose felt a puff of hot breath against her loins, then yelped as Bec thrust his cold wet nose between her lips and took a whiff. Panting and drooling, he dragged his tongue over her slit, lapping up the juices that flowed ever more profluently from her opening. To her delight, he licked her not just like an animal after something tasty, but like a human pleasuring his lover. The length and flexibility of his tongue was astounding, the way it flicked over her clit mind-blowing. She pushed back against his snout; he wuffed in surprise, nibbled at her folds and thrust his tongue into her.

Rose quivered, pressing herself against the log. Her fingers scraped through the snow until it melted under her hands and her nails scrabbled at bark. Bec's tongue slithered between her buttocks and over her arsehole. Her muscles tensed, fluttering, and she gripped even harder. “Ohh, Fluthlu! This shouldn't feel so good.”

Bec barked his agreement and reared up, his claws clacking down next to her shoulders. Rose bowed under his weight and reached up to rub his neck, urging him on. Her scent and taste had made him rock hard. His prick bobbed between his legs, huge, swollen and crackling with green sun energy. It slapped against Rose's thighs as he lined it up and she felt its hot hardness. His otherworldly blood pulsed in his shaft and immense knot, and his smooth, veiny skin slid over her own slippery flesh, pussy juice and precum mingling into one.

The tip of Bec's cock caught in Rose's hole, and he didn't waste a moment in pressing it home. He thrust all the way to the back of her canal, reaming her until her walls practically groaned around his girth. His knot squished between her lips, displacing a fresh surge of juices. The solid bulk of it made her feel more full than she'd ever been, and she itched for it to swell up and lock him to her.

Bec made a couple of experimental thrusts, gauging how far back he could go without overbalancing, and how hard and fast he could fuck Rose without sending the tree tumbling into the gully. It seemed sturdy enough, and Rose wrapped her hands around his paws to help him maintain his position. He licked the back of her neck in gratitude, dribbling a stream of saliva into his hair as he did, but she didn't mind, she just wanted him to take her. He jabbed his cock into her again, whining at how tightly her undulating walls squeezed him. Bec – smart and powerful though he was – didn't know why humans did some of the things they did, but he knew he loved the way human women felt.

He loved the noises they made too, and Rose's sounded as sweet as any Bec had heard. She started out making a sort of whispery whimper, her pleasure as slight as her voice while her vagina adjusted itself to his cock. A few soft thrusts drew a series of 'ah's and 'ooh's from her, faster and faster the more vigorously he pumped her until they became a rapid-fire stream of gasps, speckled here and there with 'yes' and 'fuck' and 'more'. They dopplered into a groan, rising in pitch and volume until it was a scream, reverberating around the trees and startling winter birds from their roosts. Rose knew she could have been heard, perhaps even discovered _in flagrante_ , and the idea of it made her stomach lurch as though she was preparing to dive from a clifftop into an icy pond. She wanted to be found, for someone to see the prim blonde bookworm with a head full of dark thoughts and darker desires living them out. She wanted the to see her having sex with – no, fucking – no, mating with and like an animal. She howled like the filthy bitch she knew she was and revelled in being, and Becquerel howled with her.

Bec was getting rougher and more reliant on raw power than finesse to give Rose what she wanted. Her breasts were crushed under her, her nipples were squashed into them. The tree's bark scraped against them, making them nicely sore as the heat from various scratches and abrasions tingled in her skin. Idly, she wondered whether she'd be spending her evening plucking splinters out of her tits, until a particularly vicious impact from Bec crashed into her and knocked the thought from her mind.

There was a hitch each time Bec pulled back. His knot had engorged to the point where it caught on the edges of her opening. It stretched her almost to the point of pain, her lips grasped it slackly, tugged back in the wake of its passage, then he buried it back inside her and let it swell a few more millimetres.

Precum poured into Rose's pussy like water from a spring. She had absolutely no idea how Bec produced so much, but she did know she loved the sticky wetness of it slicking her insides, rolling down her thighs and dripping into the snow below her, where it formed a melted divot with the rest of her fluids. She reached back, making herself jump as she grazed her clit, and worked her fingertips into her folds. She scooped up a blob of pre and ferried it to her mouth, licked her fingers clean and savoured the salty-sweet taste.

Bec was on the verge of being unable to pull his knot out or put it back in, so Rose returned her hand to the point where their bodies conjoined and grasped the base of his prick. With gentle pressure she encouraged him to make one last push and no more. Her pussy swallowed his knot and closed around it, sealing her up completely. Now she and Bec were truly one, locked together until she got him off. She patted his flank and spurred him back into action.

With his knot in place, Bec had to adjust the way he screwed Rose. The slow, indulgent withdrawal of his cock followed by him pounding it back in changed into rapid, almost jerky thrusts. His knot shuttled back and forth in the vestibule of her pussy, straining at her opening, pressing against the soft spots in her walls that sent an effervescent sensation rising up through her stomach and chest. She moaned and raised her head to rub her face against his fur, and he craned his neck down and gave her and affectionate lick.

Audibly panting now, his tongue hanging over his teeth, Bec's drool dripped steadily into Rose's hair and down her neck. Every so often he let out a short, breathless bark, matching Rose's squeals and yelps. The staticky feeling of his power was rising, suffusing her body; his cock felt so hot it was almost broiling her insides. It throbbed with his heartbeat, and each time it did a jolt of energy surged into the delicate muscles lining her tunnel, making them twitch and spasm and reflexively clamp down. She screamed in delirious ecstasy, grinding herself against the log and clutching at Bec's paws. They were tensed up, claws curled into the wood, and Rose realised that he was feeling as good as she was.

Rose put her hand between her legs and rubbed Bec's knot through her own skin, astounded at the degree to which he'd stretched her. She fancied she could feel the entirety of his cock inside her, and swirled her fingers around the general area of her canal, trying to trace ridges, veins, curves. It seemed almost possible to give him a hand job while he was still fucking her, but failing that she closed her thumb and forefinger around the base of his prick, rubbing the short length of shaft between his knot and sheath. He whined his enthusiasm, then Rose moved onto his balls, cupping them, squeezing them. He growled a warning and nipped her shoulder, but she persisted and he decided he liked it. She ran her finger around her distended lips, gathering up her dew, and used it to anoint his sack, massaging it into his skin.

Rose's clitoris begged for attention, so she moved her hand back to it, circling it with her fingertips, lightly flicking and prodding it until it was practically buzzing. She gasped and recoiled each time she touched her bud, but the more she did it, the more bearable it was. She started to shudder, and found she was barely able to hold herself up with her free arm. She sank onto her elbow, not caring that the bark of the tree chafed her, and mercilessly tackled her clit. Pressing her hand to it, she rubbed as hard as she dared.

Rose opened her senses to the world and drank in every last bit of it. She felt Bec's cock surging inside her, backed up by the constant, reassuring presence of his knot: hard as stone, smooth as ice, hot as her passion. Her fingertips strummed her clitoris and stropped the edge of her pleasure into razor-sharpness, letting it slice her reason into ribbons. Now she was truly wild, no longer possessed of a past or future but immersed in one moment, one moment which had been and always would be ecstasy. She gasped, and caught the scent of snow and sweat and cum...

... because Bec had come, howling, his voice taking on odd timbres and undertones as though parts of it were coming from a few seconds ago or ahead, or echoing out from the trees in another part of the woods entirely. His seed flooded Rose's cunt, crackling with his energy. In his primal bliss, full of the joy and triumph of procreation he bit down on his conquest's neck. Rose screamed as pain and fear spiced her brewing orgasm. Another scream left her, one of an entirely different nature, and she left behind pain, fear and even pleasure. The thing that burst inside her was almost transcendent, even more so because of its carnal, bestial origin.

When she came down from it, Rose wasn't exactly sure what had transpired, but she figured it must have been good. Her body was shaking, her pussy twitching around Bec's cock. He was softening now, though his knot felt as solid as ever. A quick grope around her loins revealed that he was still firmly joined to her. The great hairy lump had conked out on top of her, pressing her down against the log. She reached up and nudged him in the ribs, to which he rumbled a happy reply.

“You realise how ridiculous we look, don't you?” Rose said. Bec wuffled and licked her cheek.

A few minutes of warm if increasingly uncomfortable and embarrassing post-coital bliss passed, then Bec was soft enough to pull out. He dropped onto all fours, allowing Rose to stand and stretch. She clamped her hand to her mound as his cum started leak out of her, still hot, sticky and crackling with the residual traces of his power, but there was so much of it that there was no stopping the flow. She gave it up as a bad job and slumped to the ground, leaning back against the tree. Bec laid down next to her and rested his head in her lap as though he was any old pet mutt. He seemed smaller again, more like his normal self.

“Hey boy.” Rose scratched her canine paramour between the ears. “I'm not quite sure what I was expecting when we started this little game, but you certainly made interesting. Thank you.”

Bec gave a happy bark and thumped his tail against the ground.

Rose closed her eyes and sank her fingers into his fur. “Mmm, I suppose I should get a move on. Mother still needs her booze.” She stroked Bec from neck to tail, running her hand down his spine in a way that made him groan and wriggle. “I've no idea how I'm going to clean up, though. At least my clothes are intact.”

Green light flared, and Rose felt pins and needles throughout her whole body. When they cleared, she looked down and found herself unblemished: not a scratch or scrape on her. She felt her hair, of which not a strand was out of place, then her neck, where Bec's toothmarks had vanished. Further down, his cum had been completely cleaned away. She wasn't even sweaty.

“Ah, I see,” Rose said. “Adept at hiding the evidence, are we?” She could have sworn he winked at her.

Rose pushed Bec's head off her legs and stood up. “I really must go,” she told him, “but if you were to see me in these woods again, well, I might be up for another little game of hide and seek. When it's warmer, of course.”

Bec wagged his tail and reared up on his hind legs, where he planted his forepaws on Rose's shoulders. He licked her face, dropped back down and, with a farewell bark, vanished. His departure left behind a clap of inrushing air and a black, dog-shaped void filled with stars, then that too closed in on itself and disappeared.

Blinking, Rose wiped Bec's spittle off her cheek and turned her attention to her clothes. She dressed quickly, shivering now that Bec's protection from the cold had gone. When she grabbed her bag, she didn't expect it to go clink, nor be heavier than it had been when she'd set off. She reached inside, closed her hand around something cool and smooth and pulled it out.

A bottle. One that, according to the label, held Drunken Cossack Diamond Reserve vodka. Her mom's favourite brand. It'd be difficult to explain how she came by it in the local bottle shop, but hopefully her mother would too busy mixing a martini to ask. Silently thanking Bec, she replaced the bottle and followed her footprints back home.

**Author's Note:**

> This won my tumblr followers' votes for the fic I should write next. If you'd like to keep up to date with my stuff (and maybe participate in future votes) follow me at geistygeist.tumblr.com! The runners up are to follow.


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